Harry and Harry
12 Jan 2024
Sweat burned Harry’s eyes, cascading over both nose and chin. Although he tried to calm himself by sinking into the worn confines of his leather easy chair, his gut preferred to tremble, and his breathing remained short and raspy. The sole source of light in his basement sanctuary came from a series of blinking multicolored flashes. The apparatus sat a few feet in front of him, and
centered in its face was a dark round opening. With a long sigh, he wiped his free hand on his trousers and reached out to turn on the machine ─ his time machine.
20 Nov 2014
Harry Simson sat at a lunch table listening to Dr. Jeremy Grimes. He was being considered for a position at Pearl Labs, a leading communications research facility located at the foothills of the Kittatinny Mountains in northern New Jersey. Harry was fresh out of college and had just gotten married to his high school sweetheart, Jayne Bardwell. They hadn’t yet decided upon a place to live
when he received an invitation from Pearl Labs.
Grimes finished up his description of the facilities at Pearl, and with tented hands propping his goateed chin, asked, “So, Harry, what do you think of this place?”
“Nice. I mean…I really like it.”
Harry was a bit overwhelmed by Pearl Labs and immediately wished he could take back that lame response and substitute it with a series of keen observations, and perhaps, several penetrating questions. Until now he had only been exposed to nearly obsolete university lab equipment. Grimes was hard to read. His face was creased with age, an overgrown mop of pure white hair covered
the tips of his ears. Dark glasses were propped up by a prominent and bulbous nose much like his own.
Grimes smiled, as if he knew Harry was an introvert, and would have a terrible time conversing. Sympathetically, he offered, “Is there anything about the work here that attracts you in particular?”
Harry’s face brightened. “Well, I am really interested in the CTC experiments you’ve described. They seem very cutting edge.”
Grimes’s smile widened further. “Our best people have been assigned to the Closed Time Curve project. It’s very ‘cutting edge’as you put it.” Grimes glanced at his watch and continued, “In fact, we are about to test a phase of the project in a few minutes…would you
like to come along and see it?”
Harry could only nod. They stood and in moments he was trying to keep up with Grimes marching down a brightly lit hallway and through a key card entry door. Before them sat a metallic tubular device about a foot wide at the opening, ringed by something that looked like clear plastic optical cabling. A number of technicians surrounded the odd metal tube, clipboards in hand, checking and rechecking connections and monitor displays.
They turned to look at the pair who entered.
“I’m glad we were able to arrive before the testing. This is our interviewee, Harry Simson. Some of you met him earlier today. Please go
ahead.”
After a few nods, the group turned back to the machine and their clipboards. One of the technicians reached for a switch mounted on the tube’s side. The thick strands of optical cable surrounding the tube glowed red and a low pitched hum filled the lab. Everyone stared at the open end which had turned a deep purple. Seemingly out of nowhere a small white ball shot out. It flew across the room and ricocheted off cabinets and countertops. All at once, the technicians raised their arms and shouted.
Sweat burned Harry’s eyes, cascading over both nose and chin. Although he tried to calm himself by sinking into the worn confines of his leather easy chair, his gut preferred to tremble, and his breathing remained short and raspy. The sole source of light in his basement sanctuary came from a series of blinking multicolored flashes. The apparatus sat a few feet in front of him, and
centered in its face was a dark round opening. With a long sigh, he wiped his free hand on his trousers and reached out to turn on the machine ─ his time machine.
20 Nov 2014
Harry Simson sat at a lunch table listening to Dr. Jeremy Grimes. He was being considered for a position at Pearl Labs, a leading communications research facility located at the foothills of the Kittatinny Mountains in northern New Jersey. Harry was fresh out of college and had just gotten married to his high school sweetheart, Jayne Bardwell. They hadn’t yet decided upon a place to live
when he received an invitation from Pearl Labs.
Grimes finished up his description of the facilities at Pearl, and with tented hands propping his goateed chin, asked, “So, Harry, what do you think of this place?”
“Nice. I mean…I really like it.”
Harry was a bit overwhelmed by Pearl Labs and immediately wished he could take back that lame response and substitute it with a series of keen observations, and perhaps, several penetrating questions. Until now he had only been exposed to nearly obsolete university lab equipment. Grimes was hard to read. His face was creased with age, an overgrown mop of pure white hair covered
the tips of his ears. Dark glasses were propped up by a prominent and bulbous nose much like his own.
Grimes smiled, as if he knew Harry was an introvert, and would have a terrible time conversing. Sympathetically, he offered, “Is there anything about the work here that attracts you in particular?”
Harry’s face brightened. “Well, I am really interested in the CTC experiments you’ve described. They seem very cutting edge.”
Grimes’s smile widened further. “Our best people have been assigned to the Closed Time Curve project. It’s very ‘cutting edge’as you put it.” Grimes glanced at his watch and continued, “In fact, we are about to test a phase of the project in a few minutes…would you
like to come along and see it?”
Harry could only nod. They stood and in moments he was trying to keep up with Grimes marching down a brightly lit hallway and through a key card entry door. Before them sat a metallic tubular device about a foot wide at the opening, ringed by something that looked like clear plastic optical cabling. A number of technicians surrounded the odd metal tube, clipboards in hand, checking and rechecking connections and monitor displays.
They turned to look at the pair who entered.
“I’m glad we were able to arrive before the testing. This is our interviewee, Harry Simson. Some of you met him earlier today. Please go
ahead.”
After a few nods, the group turned back to the machine and their clipboards. One of the technicians reached for a switch mounted on the tube’s side. The thick strands of optical cable surrounding the tube glowed red and a low pitched hum filled the lab. Everyone stared at the open end which had turned a deep purple. Seemingly out of nowhere a small white ball shot out. It flew across the room and ricocheted off cabinets and countertops. All at once, the technicians raised their arms and shouted.